


Fever by Madison

by sgamadison



Series: The Cabin Series [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 11:48:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgamadison/pseuds/sgamadison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You could never tell what a man with a fever might say...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever by Madison

[Fever](viewstory.php?sid=14351) by [Madison](viewuser.php?uid=1593) [NC-17]

 

 

**Summary:** You could never tell what a man with a fever might say...

 

More Cabin series fic with a dose of snide commentary

 

**Categories:** [Slash Pairings](browse.php?type=categories&id=3) &gt; [McKay/Sheppard](browse.php?type=categories&id=11)

**Characters:** [Carson Beckett](browse.php?type=characters&charid=3), [John Sheppard](browse.php?type=characters&charid=7), [Rodney McKay](browse.php?type=characters&charid=12)

**Genres:** [Established Relationship](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=9), [Humour](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=12), [Hurt Comfort](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=13), [Series](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=19)

**Warnings:** [Adult themes](browse.php?type=class&type_id=2&classid=23)

**Chapters:** 1 [[Table of Contents](viewstory.php?sid=14351&index=1)]

**Series:** [The Cabin Series](viewseries.php?seriesid=205)

 

 

Word count: 4141; Completed: Yes

 

 

 

 

 

 

> **Story Notes:**
> 
>  
> 
> Takes place between Exile and Reinstatement in the Cabin series, though not necessary to read either of those stories

 

* * *

>   
> "What the hell's wrong with you?" John asked, making a face as he tried to get comfortable on the couch.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney blinked, realized that he'd been dozing and that he was missing the last part of the movie. "What?" he said, somewhat muzzily.
> 
>  
> 
> John shouldered him. "You're not normally what I would call a cuddly person, McKay. And yet you're all over me like an octopus."
> 
>  
> 
> "I'm cold," Rodney complained, worming an arm behind John's back. "So sue me."
> 
>  
> 
> "You can't be cold," John laughed. He stretched long, jean-clad legs so that he could rest his sock feet on the coffee table in front of them. "We've got a fire going and you're under a blanket. If this is another move in your campaign for a woodstove, I gotta tell you, plan A was working better for you."
> 
>  
> 
> "You're only saying that because you like blowjobs," Rodney groused, edging closer to John and working his hand up underneath John's sweater. He was wearing that ratty cream cable-knit that made him look impossibly rugged and Rodney wondered again how he'd been so lucky to have John turn up on the doorstep to the cabin all those weeks ago.
> 
>  
> 
> "Who doesn't like blowjobs?" John said agreeably.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney looked up with what he supposed was a glare but felt his face relax into a smile when John grinned down at him. "Anyway," he continued, with less than his usual bite, "I am too cold. I've been cold all day. I can't seem to get warm."
> 
>  
> 
> John raised an eyebrow at him.
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh don't give me that look, Colonel Oblivious to the Weather. Some people get cold you know."
> 
>  
> 
> "Yes, I know," John said patiently. "Point three of your twelve point woodstove argument, I believe. But that wasn't what the look was about. It's not cold in here, Rodney." John reached towards him, laying the back of his hand across Rodney's forehead. "Huh."
> 
>  
> 
> "Huh, what huh?" Rodney scowled at him.
> 
>  
> 
> John started disentangling himself from Rodney. "You feel hot. You looked flushed. I think we'd better take your temperature."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney huddled down under the blanket and shivered slightly as John rummaged in bathroom for a thermometer.
> 
>  
> 
> "Here, open up" he said, reaching with the thermometer towards Rodney's mouth. Rodney started to comply and then quickly clamped his lips shut, turning his head away.
> 
>  
> 
> "How do I know you don't have the cat's thermometer?"
> 
>  
> 
> "The cat has her own thermometer?" John said in puzzlement, looking down at the digital instrument in his hand.
> 
>  
> 
> "That's it, you can just forget about taking my temperature now." Rodney threw back the blanket in preparation of leaving the couch.
> 
>  
> 
> John placed a restraining hand on him with a laugh. "Aw, c'mon, Rodney, I was just teasing. Of course the Puffball has her own thermometer. You only keep it in a case marked to that effect in big letters—it's hard to miss. Besides, that stays in the kitchen drawer with her brush and that hairball gunk."
> 
>  
> 
> Reluctantly, Rodney opened his mouth for the thermometer, pulling the edge of the blanket back up over his shoulders again. After six seconds, the thermometer beeped and John held it up to view the readout. Rodney watched as both eyebrows crawled up towards his messy hairline. "Huh," John said once more. "Maybe we should try that again."
> 
>  
> 
> "What? What is it?" Rodney said anxiously. John took advantage of his open mouth and popped the thermometer in once more. After another six seconds, he looked at it again, a small frown forming between his eyes.
> 
>  
> 
> "Give me that." Rodney snatched the thermometer away and peered down at the reading. "103.7!" he squawked. "That can't be right."
> 
>  
> 
> "Which is why I took it again. Same reading both times. Certainly explains why you can't get warm. C'mon. Let's get you some Tylenol and put you to bed." He held out a hand for Rodney, who allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
> 
>  
> 
> "But I don't feel sick," Rodney complained as he followed John into the small kitchen area off the main living room. "I mean, well, I have a headache, but that's not all that unusual for me, and I feel achy all over, but then we stacked all that wood yesterday..."
> 
>  
> 
> "I don't recall seeing you doing much stacking, McKay," John said dryly, counting out two Tylenol and handing them to Rodney while he got a glass of water from the tap.
> 
>  
> 
> "I stacked, I stacked," Rodney said a shade defensively. "I can't help it if my back started to act up." He took the water from John and swallowed the pills, drinking quickly. When he put the glass on the counter and turned to face John again, he was looking back at Rodney with a fond expression on his face. It made Rodney feel all warm inside.
> 
>  
> 
> And then he shivered. Violently.
> 
>  
> 
> "What do you think is wrong with me?" He tried to mask the worry in his voice. "I mean, we're pretty isolated up here. You don't think maybe it's something weird left over from our time in Pegasus, do you?"
> 
>  
> 
> "I think there's no point in idle speculation tonight. Do you want to go to the hospital?"
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney shook his head. The local quacks could deal with frostbite and gunshot wounds but they'd never seen what Pegasus could dish out. If he was going to see a doctor, it would have to be someone he trusted.
> 
>  
> 
> John turned him by the shoulders and began to steer him from behind towards the bedroom. He hesitated when they reached the door. "Would you rather I sleep in the other room tonight? You might be more comfortable."
> 
>  
> 
> "What? Don't be an ass. Of course you're sleeping in here." A thought suddenly struck him and he back pedaled. "Unless of course, you want to try to avoid getting it yourself. Maybe you _shouldn't_ sleep in here then."
> 
>  
> 
> "Rodney." John leaned one shoulder into the doorframe. In a flash, Rodney was taken back to every other time he'd seen John do some version of that famous lean. John canting his hips against Rodney's lab table, John leaning in the doorway on dozens of occasions with that oh-so-sexy smile, John slouching in his chair in the briefing room on Atlantis. Atlantis might be lost to them now, but he still had John leaning on things and that was one thing he'd always been afraid he'd lose.
> 
>  
> 
> A finger snap in his face brought him back to the present. "What?"
> 
>  
> 
> "How did we start the morning?" John gave him his "_I've got a secret_" smile and Rodney grinned back at him. Ah, yes. This morning. Well, he had a point.
> 
>  
> 
> By the time Rodney had brushed his teeth (making a mental note to replace the toothbrush as soon as he was over whatever it was that he had) and changed into the thickest sweat suit he possessed, he crawled, shivering, under the comforter, to find John already in bed ahead of him. They'd both gotten out of the habit of wearing anything to bed, so he was surprised to find John in a faded t-shirt and boxer briefs.
> 
>  
> 
> "You gonna be okay?" John queried as Rodney burrowed under the covers and worked his way up next to him.
> 
>  
> 
> "I think so," Rodney said with a trace of a chatter to his teeth. "But you'll be right here, right? I mean, if I get any worse."
> 
>  
> 
> "Of course I will, Rodney. And if you're not a lot better in the morning, we'll get you to a doctor."
> 
>  
> 
> "I can't understand why I'm so coherent. You'd think I'd be hallucinating by now. Oh god, you don't think I have meningitis, do you?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Rodney," John sighed. "Do you want me to take you to the hospital now?"
> 
>  
> 
> The thought of going out into the frigid night air and driving for hours to get to the nearest hospital was too daunting. "No," Rodney said, shivering harder. "Let's see what I'm like in the morning."
> 
>  
> 
> In the morning, his temperature was down to 102. "Well, at least it's in the right direction," John said, bringing him a cup of coffee and biscuits warm out of the oven, dripping with butter and honey, as well as two more Tylenol. He must have gotten up early; he was wearing old USAF grey sweats now, the fires were lit and the cabin reasonably warm. Rodney still shivered though, as he tossed back the covers and made his way creakily towards the bathroom.
> 
>  
> 
> "You look hot," John said, giving him a lazy half smile from his side of the bed.
> 
>  
> 
> "Of course, I'm hot," Rodney said testily. "I have a _fever_."
> 
>  
> 
> "No, that's not what I meant," John chuckled. "I mean, you're all flushed and your hair is mussed up. If you weren't so sick, I'd seriously be all over you right now."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney felt his mouth gape open a little as he stared back at John, the image of hotness personified. He knew that John liked him because, hello, they were living together in a cabin in the middle of the Canadian wilderness, but it never really occurred to him that John was _attracted_ to him. Not like the way Rodney (and, as far as he could tell, every other living being) was attracted to John.
> 
>  
> 
> He made a face to hide his confusion and continued towards the bathroom.
> 
>  
> 
> Later, after a short return to the bed to recoup his strength, he made it as far as the living room before collapsing on the couch. Tucking himself into as tight a ball as he could manage, he pulled the fuzzy blanket up over him and shivered miserably. Puffin, the small black and white cat Rodney adopted shortly after John had showed up at the cabin, joined him, purring loudly as she kneaded the soft blanket with her paws. She always thought a day spent on the couch was a good idea.
> 
>  
> 
> John appeared in his line of sight. "You want another biscuit? Coffee?"
> 
>  
> 
> "No," Rodney said, belatedly adding, "thanks."
> 
>  
> 
> John's brow furrowed slightly. He padded away quietly in sock feet and then returned with another comforter, lifting Puffin and tucking the extra bedding around Rodney before re-depositing the cat in a comfortable position.
> 
>  
> 
> "So what's your game plan?" he said, after the cat had settled.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney opened his eyes to see unaccustomed worry in John's hazel eyes.
> 
>  
> 
> "I plan," Rodney said, closing his eyes again and flipping a hand in John's direction, "to take a nap. When I wake up, I will probably follow that with a Lord of the Rings Marathon."
> 
>  
> 
> "Cool. Count me in on that." Rodney could hear the genuine appreciation for the plan in John's voice and it made him smile. "Okay, well, while you're sleeping, I'm going to start a pot of soup and then go out for a bit. Save the first movie for me."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney made a face at John's fresh air madness without opening his eyes and listened to the soothing sounds of John puttering around in the kitchen. In a way, it was a lot like sleeping next to John in the night. He'd never admit it, but John snored. A fact that Rodney found endlessly amusing and teased him about on every occasion. And yet, all the time that they'd been sleeping together, Rodney knew it only took the lightest of touches on John's shoulder to get him to shift position and the snoring would stop. He should have found it annoying, any other thing that interrupted his sleep on a regular basis would have made him insane long before now, but John snoring quietly next to him was a solid and real affirmation of his presence and Rodney couldn't find that irritating.
> 
>  
> 
> He drifted in and out of conscious thought as the warmth of the blankets finally seeped into his body. He supposed he must be coming down with the flu—probably got exposed during the trip into town for supplies last week. He hoped that was all that it was, but if that was the case, then John would probably come down with it too, and that worried him because as much as he cared about John, Rodney knew that he was lousy in the sickroom. Maybe John wouldn't come down with it—he had the constitution of a horse. Which was a stupid expression when he thought about it, because from everything John had told him, horses were great, imbecilic creatures just looking for an excuse to fall down and die. Still, in all the time Rodney had known John, he'd rarely been sick. Shot, impaled, sent into cardiac arrest, turned into a giant bug, had buildings fall on him, yes. But sick? Not so much. The only time Rodney could recall was that time Lucius tried to take over Atlantis with his nasty little bag of pheromone juice and John had been immune because he had the sniffles. Rodney skated past his own less than honorable actions in the aftermath of that incident. He'd been surprised afterwards when John had found it funny rather than grounds for shooting him. It should have been his first clue that perhaps John liked him a little bit.
> 
>  
> 
> He really hoped John didn't get whatever this was. Maybe all that time being nearly killed by so many different methods had weakened his immune system and he'd get whatever Rodney had and get really sick. Maybe even die. Rodney had been selfish in wanting John close to him last night; he knew that now. He needed to insist that John keep his distance. Although...his mind flipped back to yesterday morning. Mornings were tough for Rodney. It was the whole reason he'd been pushing for installing a woodstove in the living room. Nothing was worse than waking up to a cold room and getting out of bed on such occasions was murder. John was against the woodstove idea, saying it would take up too much of the living room space and block off the fireplace. Rodney argued that they would still have a fireplace in the bedroom and it would put an end to fighting about whose turn it was to get up early and start the fires going. Rodney had a sneaking suspicion John liked those arguments, but he was determined to win this one.
> 
>  
> 
> Yesterday, he'd been hunkered under the comforter, not because of a fever, but because he was waiting for the cabin to warm up enough to make it comfortable to get out of bed. He'd tried to ignore John, who was coming in and out of the bedroom, wearing nothing but that short, plush, navy bathrobe and opening drawers in a particularly noisy way. After John had done this at least three times, Rodney could hear the shower start in the bathroom and he lay perfectly still under the blankets, contemplating the risk:benefit ratio to remaining warm under the covers verse joining John in the shower. John, who had been oh-so-obvious in his meanderings in and out of the bedroom—how could Rodney resist?
> 
>  
> 
> So he had steeled himself for the coldness of the room as he'd gotten up, not wanting to know what his face looked like as he'd dashed the short distance to the bathroom and opened the glass door to the shower. John's grin as Rodney joined him under the hot spray had been pure evil. He'd let Rodney position the two of them the way Rodney wanted—Rodney with his back to the water and John facing him. Rodney had pulled John into his embrace then, reveling in the slick slide of hands across wet skin, unable to resist mouthing and biting at John's collarbone, his chest, his shoulders—leaving small red marks that he knew would bruise later. Even now, Rodney was careful to keep the marks to where they wouldn't show, always where they would be hidden under clothing. John had captured his mouth for a long, sensuous kiss, almost driving Rodney mad with the heat and the smell and the taste of John's skin. He'd dropped to his knees then, sliding down John's body until he was at eye level with that perfect cock. He'd glanced up through wet lashes to see John grinning down at him and then he took John in hand and closed his mouth over the end of John's cock, hot water pounding down on his shoulders, John's hand resting lightly on his head. So yeah, whatever bug Rodney had, John had probably been pretty well thoroughly exposed to it by now.
> 
>  
> 
> He'd made John get out and hand over his bathrobe, pointing out that if they only had a woodstove, the cabin would be comfortably warm all the time. In which case, the odds of early morning blowjobs in the shower would increase exponentially. John, however, remained unconvinced.
> 
>  
> 
> He awoke to the sound of voices in the other room. Somehow, he'd made it back to the bedroom again, but he didn't remember doing that, which was a little worrisome. Something caught at his arm when he moved it and he discovered a band-aid at his elbow. As though he'd given a blood sample. But he didn't remember that either. Wrapping a blanket around him like a cape, he walked into the living room, frowning.
> 
>  
> 
> "Carson?" Rodney said on seeing the man speaking quietly with John. "What are you doing here?"
> 
>  
> 
> Both men turned in his direction and John moved rapidly towards him, taking him by an arm and guiding him towards the couch. "You weren't making any sense when I got back from my walk and your temperature was through the roof again. I got worried and called Carson."
> 
>  
> 
> "Retired or no, it seems the Colonel still has some pull with the SGC," Carson said pleasantly. "I was lucky to be on board the _Daedalus_ and got them to beam me over."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney sat heavily on the couch. "I thought you were dead," he said, blinking owlishly up at Carson. "Or at least dating that Porter woman."
> 
>  
> 
> Carson and John exchanged a weird look. "I think it's probably just a virus, Colonel," Carson said to John, ignoring Rodney completely. "I'll run the samples to be sure, but chances are it will just have to run its course. I expect he'll be better in four or five days but I'd feel better if we took him back to the SGC."
> 
>  
> 
> "No, no, no, no, no," Rodney complained. "I don't want to go to the SGC. Dark, miserable place a gazillion miles underground. John wouldn't be happy there. He's got this fresh air thing, you know," he added in a conspiratorial aside to Carson.
> 
>  
> 
> Carson for some reason looked as though he were trying not to laugh before he spoke. "Now Rodney, I've never known you to turn down an opportunity to go to the infirmary before. Hells bells, man, you showed up there in Atlantis for a paper cut, for pity's sake. And this time you're really sick."
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney could feel a pout coming on. "It's not Atlantis. That's the whole point. They took Atlantis _away_ from us, Carson."
> 
>  
> 
> "Here we go again," John said for some bizarre reason.
> 
>  
> 
> Carson looked confused, glancing back and forth from John to Rodney and back to John again.
> 
>  
> 
> "They took Atlantis away from us," Rodney repeated, warming to his theme. "Pulled us for funding, or so they said, but then they outfitted _another_ expedition and sent them to Pegasus in our place."
> 
>  
> 
> "Aye, I heard about that," Carson said soothingly. "Never ye mind that now, we need to get you where I can keep an eye on you."
> 
>  
> 
> "Do you know what they said when they launched the new expedition?" Rodney said indignantly. "They touted it as being more cerebral and mature. They want cerebral? _I'm_ cerebral! I'm a genius—the smartest man in two galaxies. How much more cerebral than that do you want?" Rodney's hands made a brief appearance from under the blanket to make finger quotes every time he said the word 'cerebral'. "And as for mature...I'm in my forties for fuck's sake."
> 
>  
> 
> Carson looked unaccountably startled for some reason. He opened his mouth to speak, but Rodney cut him off again. "No, no, I'm telling you. I saw the crew manifest. They were all a bunch of _kids_. Losers and slackers, the lot of them. How the hell is that supposed to be mature?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Huh," Carson said thoughtfully. "I heard they were supposed to be more identifiable and contemporary."
> 
>  
> 
> "Not _helping_, Carson," John said in that way that made it sound like he was grinding his teeth.
> 
>  
> 
> "Precisely!" Rodney said with triumph. "How can they possibly be both? What the hell does 'contemporary' mean? Someone of the Facebook generation? And I'm identifiable. _Everybody_ knows who I am."
> 
>  
> 
> "Of course they do, Rodney," Carson was back to being soothing again.
> 
>  
> 
> "You know, I really love it when you say my name," Rodney beamed up at him. "Your accent makes it sound so cool."
> 
>  
> 
> "Okay then," Carson took a deep breath. "As I was saying, I'd like you to come back to the SGC for observation."
> 
>  
> 
> "No," Rodney was firm. "The beds are too small and I can't sleep without John next to me."
> 
>  
> 
> Huh. John looked very flushed all the sudden. Rodney hoped he wasn't coming down with the same thing that Rodney had. Carson should check him out too.
> 
>  
> 
> Carson seemed both embarrassed and amused for some reason. "Perhaps it would be best if Rodney stayed here after all. I can run my tests and we'll stay in touch. I'm only a matter of moments away if you need me in an emergency."
> 
>  
> 
> John cleared his throat. "Sounds like a plan, doc," he drawled.
> 
>  
> 
> Carson patted him on the shoulder as though John needed moral support for some reason. It must be because John was worried about him. Though Rodney still didn't understand why Carson was biting his lip as though he were trying not to laugh.
> 
>  
> 
> He must have been dozing again when John sat down on the couch beside him. "Hey."
> 
>  
> 
> "Hey yourself. You feeling any better?" John still looked concerned.
> 
>  
> 
> "A little. What time is it?" Rodney tried to look at his watch but his hand was buried underneath the blankets.
> 
>  
> 
> "About four in the afternoon," John said with a shrug. He lifted one arm and Rodney scooted up closer to him, allowing John to drop his arm around Rodney's shoulders. "Carson checked in with your lab results. Negative for everything, like he thought. It's probably just a virus that will have to run its course."
> 
>  
> 
> "Carson was here? Why don't I remember that?" Rodney said incredulously.
> 
>  
> 
> "Ah, you were a bit out of it for a while there, buddy."
> 
>  
> 
> "A bit out of it? What exactly does that mean?"
> 
>  
> 
> "As in rambling a little and ranting a lot." John grinned cheekily at him.
> 
>  
> 
> "And apparently with memory lapses too," Rodney said irritably. "Why the hell aren't I in an infirmary somewhere?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Um, you sorta outed us to Carson. He thought perhaps it would be best if you just stayed here after all."
> 
>  
> 
> "I did _what_?" Rodney said, aghast. He pushed himself up so he could turn and face John. "Oh. My. God. I am so sorry."
> 
>  
> 
> "Oh c'mon, Rodney, you were out of your mind with fever. You can't be held accountable for what you said in those circumstances. Besides, Carson's our friend. He's cool with it."
> 
>  
> 
> "John..." Rodney began, only to trail off when he didn't know what to say. "What did Carson say?" Rodney said at last in a small voice.
> 
>  
> 
> "He seemed to think I was a very brave man," John said, looking insufferably pleased with himself. Rodney swatted him on the arm, making him curl up protectively and laugh.
> 
>  
> 
> "Hey, I know," John said, eyes still bright with laughter. "How about we watch that movie now?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Works for me," Rodney said with a sigh. John might be brave, but Rodney was the lucky one.
> 
>  
> 
> ~fin~


End file.
